


falling apart is as human as it gets

by brokendevil



Series: prompts, one-shots and other drabbles [12]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, F/F, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 09:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20864222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokendevil/pseuds/brokendevil
Summary: “It was really hard to convince myself that you still loved me when you wouldn’t touch me."orExes sit in front of a camera and talk about the end of their relationship.





	falling apart is as human as it gets

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt: Can I request another Clexa break up? when I'm sad I like reading angst and yours is my favorite <3 No rush or anything I just love reading your work.

“Are you ready to get started?”

Clarke flinches at the question a little, slightly startled by the sudden noise. Around her she can see tons of different people; makeup artists, camera men, audio specialist, boom operators. There is so much noise, and hustle, and chatter and yet it feels like she’s sat in the most silent room in the world with her hands over her ears. All she can hear is own heart beat--a constant  _ thump-thump-thump  _ echo deep in her chest--and all she can see is  _ green. _

Across from her Lexa sits regally. Her legs are crossed delicately at the ankle, slightly to the side, and her strong calves and thighs are exposed by the black skirt she’s decided to wear today. A soft white blouse accentuates her collarbone, the necklace that lays perfectly centre on her chest, and she sits with a gentle smile on her face as a woman with an earpiece bustles around her. She points to something on a clipboard and Lexa nods, completely engaged in the conversation and absolutely not looking at Clarke.

Clarke watches her mouth move because, honestly, besides the man scaring her she doesn’t actually know what he said. “Yes, we’re ready,” Lexa finally looks at Clarke, almost like she’s checking in, before those eyes flick away rapidly. 

“Great. So there are a few ground rules that I’m going to familiarise you guys with firstly,” his smile is bright white and comforting and Clare decides watching him is a lot nicer than staring at Lexa and wishing she was staring back. “Okay so when we call action I need you guys to look at one another for thirty seconds. Attention is hard to establish without eye contact and this is going to help to reinforce that intimacy.”

In the back of her mind, Clarke briefly remembers that this study is based on another study by a Professor. A couple walk into a room, ask a series of intimate questions, and then stare at one another for two minutes.

The romantic in Clarke remembers that some of the couples in that study apparently fell in love.

The cynic tells her that people lie to make their studies more believable. 

“How will we know when thirty seconds is up?” Lexa asks and Clarke knows she’s nervous. Her eyes dart between the man's eyes and mouth and she’s fiddling slowly with the gold ring on her finger, twisting it back and forth but never quite all the way around.

He smiles at that and he’s reassuring in his words. “We’ll give you a cue,” he tells both of them. He’s professional and soft but he holds a presence and Clarke decides she likes him.”My colleague will raise her hand for you and when she does that, Clarke, I’d like you to pick up the first card on your pile. Once you’ve read the question out loud then, Lexa, you’re going to answer and as soon as that conversation has come to its natural end then Lexa you will draw the next card.”

“What if we don’t want to read the question?”

Lexa pouts and for the first time today--in a  _ year-- _ Clarke hears her voice. “Isn’t that the whole reason for this?” Lexa asks but she’s not unkind, though she isn’t warm like she used to be, and Clarke finds herself nodding. “To ask the hard questions we were always too afraid to ask.”

Actually, the entire reason for this is because their friends are meddling idiots and Octavia put them forward to _ “hash it out, but online!”  _

The truth is that when the offer came through--(to be filmed for a video that would be streamed to thousands, asking her ex uncomfortable questions, as a psychology experiment)--she was skeptical. Half because she didn’t think Lexa and her had anything else left to say, partly because she didn’t think Lexa would agree, but mostly because being in the same room as the girl she once claimed to be the love of her life was a little bit terrifying.

But she’s here now. In a soft pink sundress and her hair a little shorter than when Lexa walked out of the door but still just as terrified as she thought she would be. 

“I guess,” she submits and Lexa bites her lip. 

“Okay, so let’s get started,” the man says in a kind tone. “Thirty seconds will start as soon as I say go and will end when you see my coworker raise her hand. Clarke, you’ll go first and if there are any questions you don’t want to ask then feel free to skip them. But I encourage you to discuss and challenge one another. This is your safe space, this is all about the two of you. There’s no time limit on today so go with what feels right. Okay?”

They both nod and Clarke shifts on her seat as Lexa swallows thickly. 

\---

“Go.”

\---

She remembers the first time she knew she was in love with Lexa.

She watches green irises swirl into hazel, meld into blue, fold into grey and she remembers. 

A lot of things about Lexa have changed over the thirteen years they’ve known each other; her style, her hair, her enunciation, her dreams. But never her eyes. Even as she aged, as she fell in love and then out of it, even when she was sad and happy and lost; her eyes were always the same. 

_ Are  _ always the same.

And it’s so familiar, so painfully intimate, that she can almost hear the lockers slamming and sneakers squeaking on linoleum floors and Clarke can see her so clearly in her minds eyes all of her memories bursting to life.

A small smile tugs at her lips as she recalls the first time she ever realised just how badly she needed those eyes on her, watching her, supporting her.

She remembers they’d argued about something, something ridiculous probably because that's who they were, and Lexa had stalked off out of the library with a huff and a scowl and Clarke had gone to her softball game with an anger rippling inside of her that she can still feel now if she thinks hard enough.

She remembers pitching a ball hard enough that the catcher shook her hand with a scowl.

She remembers wondering if right at that moment she was experiencing her first heartbreak.

She remembers looking up and seeing Lexa in the stands, cheering her on like nothing had happened, and she remembers the moment her heart stutterd to a stop.

Because Lexa was beautiful and sad and hurt but she was still there for Clarke, still cheering for her despite their argument, and Clarke remembers gasping loudly. 

\---

Thirty seconds, she thinks, is a long time. 

But then a woman raises her arm and Lexa looks away from her and she thinks she’ll always count her life in thirty second moments from now on.

\---

“What did you learn from our relationship that has prepared you for your next one?”

Lexa laughs a little at that question and Clarke wishes she knew why. Being with Lexa was one of the best experiences of her life but denying that she didn’t learn from her would be stupid. Loving Lexa taught her more than she thought she would ever need to know and she smiles nervously.

“To not take someone for granted on the hope they’ll stick around because of love,” she says and Clarke feels the punch of Lexa’s words right in her chest. They both know that it wasn’t because they didn’t love one another that they fell apart; God, they loved one another more than Clarke ever thought it was possible to love another. 

They fell apart because she believed so proudly that love was all they needed.

And then they had to grow up.

She sighs softly at that and sits back in the chair, her movement echoing in the quiet room. “I think I would have waited forever if I thought there was a reason to.” 

“Well it’s a bit late telling me that now,” Lexa laughs and Clarke can’t help the smile even though it sounds hollow and fake and sad. It’s something Lexa has always done: revert to humor in the hardest situations. “But yes. I should never have assumed you were always going to be there. I was so busy making a career for myself and travelling and meeting new people that I didn’t stop and think about the things I was leaving behind to build my future.”

Clarke nods, clasping her hands together out of pure nervous energy. “You should know that I never, ever, once resented you for any of that,” she says quietly because it feels like the right time to tell her. Not during a 3am phone call that Jose Cuervo helped her with and not during a screaming match as they threw pieces of their hearts at one another.

When they first broke up, properly, a year ago Clarke was sure she had never felt pain like it and she convinced herself that what Lexa was feeling was nothing compared. 

She remembers how easy it was to call Lexa a bitch, to say she was unforgiving and callous and spiteful. Octavia, a friend in the middle, had always listened and had never taken sides and she never judged when Clarke took it all back.

Because Lexa wasn’t a bitch or unforgiving, she wasn’t callous or spiteful and she didn’t mean to break Clarke’s heart. 

“You’ve always been my biggest supporter,” Lexa blushes and the pure innocence in her eyes has Clarke’s heart beating faster. 

She admits softly, “I haven’t always.”

“Oh Clarke,” she sighs and it makes her look up because she’s fucking  _ missed  _ being spoken to like that. Like she’s special and precious and she belongs. “You let me go so that I could go and be the success story my mom wanted to brag about at dinner parties. I think with everything in my mind and trying to fit in and pathetically hoping to impress my family, and not understanding how life and love and my career all worked together, it was inevitable that we were going to end up here. You think because you’ve said awful things about me that you’ve not supported me but, honestly, without you I would have never had the drive or the courage to do the things I have.” 

Clarke is silent and everyone in the room is concentrating on getting the right shots, and making sure the girls have their space, and she just nods towards the card for Lexa to ask a question now.

\---

“What is the biggest lie you ever told me?”

Oh.

She swore to herself that she was going to be raw and honest and open but the question kind of shakes Clarke to the core. She knew going into this that it wasn’t going to be easy and she swallows down the lie--oh, irony--and decides to answer Lexa’s question as openly and as truthfully as she can.

“When I told you I was okay with how our sex life declined,” she whispers and she almost avoids eye contact with Lexa but the brunette simply looks back at her; waiting and soft and so ready for answers.

Admitting that they weren’t as intimate as they once were in a room full of people makes Clarke feel vulnerable and exposed and... _ embarrassed.  _

One look at Lexa and she knows people will scoff and laugh and wonder how, just  _ how could _ she keep her hands off of her?

And Clarke asked herself that several times; still asks herself. 

But long shifts were hard and commuting across the city sometimes took longer than expected and Lexa’s paperwork kept her awake at night in an office miles away from their bed.

Shame fills Clarke at the reminder though. That she wasn’t able to keep Lexa satisfied; that her body alone could no longer turn on her girlfriend; that they made time for cooking and cleaning but had no time, apparently, to touch one another by the end of their relationship. 

No, not even by the end.

Months prior. 

“I knew you were lying about that,” Lexa replies and Clarke looks into her eyes to see the same discomfort in her favourite green eyes. 

Back then it was hard for both of them to admit that there was a problem but by the time they found the words, or the time, or the courage it was too late. They were too far gone and Clarke was sure Lexa had checked out of their relationships weeks before and, shamefully, Clarke used it as an excuse to eventually walk away.

“It was really hard to convince myself that you still loved me when you wouldn’t touch me,” she finally admits the thing that had been eating inside of her during their relationship and for months after. Small gestures and love notes were lovely and sweet but Clarke needed the affection, the physical touch, and when it started to fall away she was left with doubts and worries and insecurities. 

Lexa sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “There’s a book. It talks about Love Languages and the different ways people express it,” she starts and Clarke frowns a little in confusion. But this has always been Lexa; she’s always learnt from others, always formed opinions and theories and questions from things she’s learned. She uses it as a springboard for a conversation, for an explanation, and Clarke remembers how much she loved that about her. “I’m not sure how much I believe or I trust in it but he says there are five different ways of expressing love.  _ Words of affirmation; Quality time; Receiving gifts; Acts of service  _ and  _ Physical touch.” _

“Which one was I not giving to you?”

“No, Clarke,” Lexa says gently. “I don’t know how much I believe of it. I’ve not really read about it more than the general knowledge, but I think Chapman is right when he says that everybody is different in the way they view, give and receive love. I’ve never been big on the physical side; not because I didn’t love being intimate with you, I honestly did. We were amazing. But sex was never the big thing in our relationship for me like it was for you. Not having sex didn’t tell me you didn’t love me -- it just let me know something was wrong. But I should have spoken to you about it, I should have asked.”

“I wish I would have told you earlier how I felt.” 

At that Lexa nods her consent, acknowledging that the issue was on both of them. “I think communication was our biggest downfall,” she sighs and Clarke agrees.

And how sad is it to realise that the one voice she loved to listen to so much was the one she couldn’t hear at all?

\---

“If you could give my new partner any advice, what would it be?”

For the first time, Clarke watches Lexa stall and she’s glad to know that some of these questions are as difficult for her as they had been for Clarke. 

“Do you have someone else?” 

Clarke glances around the room for a second to see if that question is allowed but most people are watching quietly, not interfering and she swallows down the lump forming in her throat. “No,” she says and she wonders if that’s kind of pathetic, wonders if she’s failing at moving on. “I...It’s just the question written on the card.”

“Okay,” Lexa blinks rapidly before looking up towards the ceiling and it just hurts Clarke more because she knows that’s Lexa’s sign, she knows this is starting to weigh heavily on slim shoulders. 

“Do you want to take a break?”

Lexa smiles at that, soft and sad. “I’d tell them how powerful you are,” she starts and Clarke rolls her eyes at how stubborn Lexa can be. How she ever forgot that she doesn’t know. “I’d explain to them that you’re strength is what drives you and is what probably attracted them to you so just stand back and let you do what it is that you need to do because standing in your way won’t ever end well.”

“I sound wonderful.” 

“I’d remind them that you prefer candlelight to low lighting and that’s probably my fault but I might keep the latter part to myself,” Lexa laughs but it’s watery and Clarke bites harder on her lower lip. “That when you have a headache to run you a bath and put on some soft music and change the bedding into the freshest ones they have. I’d say be patient in restaurants because she’s only going to order the same thing she always does but she’ll decide on it for what feels like hours and then she’ll eat some of yours anyway. I’d tell them to take time out of their day to watch you paint because it’s poetry in motion and nothing compares.” 

Clarke finds herself staring at the woman in front of her in awe. She’s always known how Lexa felt and even though she almost forgot at the end, even though Lexa forgot how to show her, it comes back to her like a punch to the face. People tell Clarke she’s beautiful all the time; they compliment her curves, her smile, her blue eyes that they compare to oceans and skies and storm clouds but only Lexa has known how to compliment  _ Clarke. _

“Thank you,” she smiles and when she swallows she feels how wet her cheeks are, how her lips are trembling. “Can I take a break please?”

Before Lexa can answer Clarke gets up and walks out of the white room with purposeful steps.

She’s almost out onto the street when she realises that she’s running, actually  _ running,  _ and she chides herself when she looks behind her in the hopes that Lexa has followed her. 

She hasn’t.

\---

She’s onto her second cigarette by the time the door behind her opens and it’s pathetic because Clarke can  _ smell  _ her before she even announces her presence. 

How ridiculous is that?

“I’d tell them to chase you when you’re upset too.”

“Fuck you, Lexa.”

It’s half-hearted and they both know it. Clarke finishes a third cigarette before she decides she’s ready to go back inside and when she glances at Lexa she can see how sad she is too.

“I’d tell them to wait for you to catch up,” the blonde says quietly, one hand reaching up to run painted fingertips against a soft cheek. “Because you’re not somebody they should be running from. I’d tell them to wait because you’re so worth it.”

She walks back to the room alone but she knows Lexa won’t be far behind.

\---

“What is your favourite memory of us?”

Once Clarke and Lexa are reassured it was fine, that it happens a lot, they return to their seats and Lexa picks up the next card. Clarke wonders if the team replaced the cards for something more light-hearted but she’s not really interested in their answer if they have one; as painful, and awkward, and how strange this experience is she doesn’t think she’d change it.

Hearing Lexa talk about how much she loved her helped.

Just hearing Lexa  _ talk  _ is cathartic.

“When we thought we were going to run away from home when we were, what? Sixteen?” 

“Oh God,” Lexa laughs and the sound pierces something in Clarke. It’s not painful; it’s joyous, genuinely happy, and she laughs along because it’s always being the most freeing experience to hear Lexa laugh. “Remember how we thought we’d travel the country and live in every state? We managed five days before you were calling your dad because the car was making some noise and you had to admit that we were in California and completely stranded.”

Clarke grins. “If you wanted to get across fifty states in a ten year old Honda you probably should have dated a mechanic.”

“Head cheerleader beats out mechanic,” Lexa states seriously. “Every single time.” 

“It was the best feeling in the world being on the road with you though,” Clarke sighs and she feels her cheeks grow pink with the memory. 

She remembers them leaving Washington thinking they were the best, most badass girls in the world. Lexa was adamant she was going to throw away her “rich girl” attitude and so they bundled into Clarke’s crappy Honda, the one with a broken front seat, and left with nothing but the money they managed to get working in shitty fast-food restaurants.

They explored cities and back roads and each other for almost an entire week before they realised it was hard in the real world and Lexa’s parents had sent out missing person alerts and they were just kids.

“We thought we were going to take over the world, didn’t we? I was so excited to start my life with you. Even then when we were only just starting out I knew that being with you was going to the only thing I was going to do. I used to watch you drive sometimes and imagine us with a baby in the back and our future mapped out and I’d tell myself that ‘this is it’, you know? If I had you then I had it all.”

“Until we didn’t.”

“That doesn’t mean we weren’t important though,” Clarke keeps smiling because it’s true and suddenly she is so, so glad that they’ve decided to do this. She’s  _ thankful.  _ Because she thinks she’s needed this for a long time. “We learnt so much from one another in the nine years we were together, Lex. How to love and how to grow. I wouldn’t change it for anything.” 

“No?”

“Absolutely fucking not. I only ever wanted you. That was enough for me and even when it wasn’t enough anymore I can’t deny that was what kept me around. The thought that, maybe, I was enough for you too.” 

“You were. We didn’t break up because we weren’t enough for one another anymore,” she shrugs softly and Clarke watches as she crosses her legs at the ankles again, her hands folded neatly on her lap. “Circumstance broke us up. Timing broke us up. There’s a whole host of things that possibly factored into our break up but love and being enough for one another? That wasn’t our problem.”

Lexa smiles and Clarke wonders if closure should feel this good.

\---

“Describe our relationship in three words.”

“Intense. Memorable,” Lexa pauses for a moment, her brilliant mind whirring and spinning and desperately trying to find the right words to describe those years of her life. “Ultimate.” 

At that Clarke startles a little. She had been expecting the usual litany of words people use to describe love; but  _ ultimate _ ? She dwells on the word for a few seconds and it seems oh so apt. But she’s curious. “Ultimate?”

“You’re the love of my life, Clarke,” Lexa says it like she’s commenting on the weather or telling Clarke that her eyes are blue. Like it’s obvious and easy and unquestionable. “I would say that you  _ were  _ but we both know I’d be lying. What we shared? It’s unmatched. And yes I know I’ll meet someone and we’ll fall in love and I’ll move on-- _ I have moved on-- _ but denying what I felt for you would just be lying to myself and I did that for too long when we were together. I lied and told myself we were okay, that we’d make it, that it didn’t matter that I stopped trying. I won’t do it now. So, yes. Ultimate.” 

“You’re the love of my life too.”

Lexa blushes at Clarke’s words and looks down, her features soft. “Thank you for telling me that.”

\---

When Lexa picks up the next card, she laughs. “It’s blank,” she says and turns the card around to show Clarke. “I think that means we’ve finished.” 

“Ask me a question anyway,” Clarke rushes, eager to keep speaking to Lexa and desperate to prolong it before someone interrupts them. She looks to her side but the producers faces are supportive and helpful and she turns back to Lexa. “Ask me something  _ you  _ want to know. Not what the cards ask us.” 

Lexa nods and thinks for a moment as Clarke watches. 

“Do you think we can still be friends after everything?”

And Lexa has always been the smoking gun that shoots the deepest bullet. She’s always been a thinker, an old soul in a beautiful body and it makes Clarke smile. She could have asked anything; could have asked why Clarke’s hair is darker, if she was still living in Washington, if she regretted anything. But no. Lexa has always looked to the future by learning from the past and Clarke should have known, she realises. 

“I’d like to try,” Clarke says softly and she watches as green eyes lighten in relief. “I spent a lot of my formative years with you in my life. Losing you meant I lost everything I’ve ever known. And I’m aware it’s probably stupid because people will question us but I’d like to see you again after this.”

“I’d like that,” Lexa replies and for a few seconds she looks away, her face thoughtful. “Ask me a question.” 

“Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?”

And, oh, Lexa laughs.

Because that question doesn’t even need an answer and it is perfectly Clarke to ask.

She’s always been the braver one. 

“I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Very quick, not much to it I know but I posted this on my Tumblr ages ago and completely forgot to post it here. 
> 
> I know it's not edited great so feel free to yell at me over there on Tumblr where all the prompts come in: brokendevilwrites.


End file.
